A Boy and His Moon
by LiquidThoughts
Summary: "I wonder," hummed Luna, "if it is possible to want someone, and to not want them, at the same time?" / [HARRY/LUNA] [FLUFF/FRIENDSHIP/ROMANCE] Possible added chapter in the future.


**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing._ It is all J.K's doing. I own nothing except my own tragic misery over this stupid ship.

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**A Boy and His Moon**

This wasn't what he wanted.

Sitting outside, leaned lazily back in his rather uncomfortable wooden chair, that's all he could think. This _wasn't what he wanted._

He dragged his gaze upwards towards the sight in front of them. Lights and faces and drinks and so many, many forced smiles. It was like being on a carousel full of Gilderoy Lockhart's in place of horses, all talking at once, him being unable to _get off the ride_. And yet, he couldn't find it in him to be mad at them. How could he? The Weasley's needed this, the teachers of Hogwarts needed this, his friends needed this - hell, _he _needed this. But rather than join them in their genuine attempts at being happy, celebrating the defeat of the Dark Lord while also honoring those they had lost (he frowned at remembering the previous nights memorial service), he stayed to the side. Silent and still as a fly on the wall, watching but not being able to feel. It had only been a month ago, but it felt like it was yesterday that he was on the other side of Voldemort's wand, gasping for breath and barely able to stand. He thought of how, by mere chance of right place right time, he was able to defeat him. Empowered not by himself but by the love of a mother who, he hoped, was also toasting her glass to the end of a wicked era. He still felt sick to his stomach every time he thought about her, about his dad, about Sirius, Severus and Dumbledore. Not only that, but everyone else... so many had died, and yet he remained alive unscathed despite a lowly scar that would forever remind him of not only who he was, but who he had lost.

He wanted to sigh, but was unable to come up with the energy. Instead he watched as George grabbed his mother around the waist from behind (which got him a pop on the back of the head) and pulled her into a tango, causing a flustered Mrs. Weasley's face to become redder than her hair, looking at her son with a mixture of incomprehensible love and irritation. George merely smiled, twirling her around and then releasing her, bowing out. He, of all of them, tried the hardest to be happy. Whether he did it for himself, or for Fred, Harry didn't know. He didn't need to. All he needed to know was that everyone here, including himself, knew Fred wasn't coming back. And neither was Lupin, or Tonks, or Colin or anyone or anything he ever loved and he just couldn't -

"Harry," whispered a voice next to him so lightly he almost didn't hear it above all the racketing that was going on. Snapping out of his thoughts, he snapped his head to the side to see Luna Lovegood had taken a chair next to him. She was not looking at him, rather, she was staring out into the crowd with her unusual wide eyes.

Her lack of acknowledging him made him question if he had heard her.

"Err - yes?" He replied uncertainly. But she said nothing, still watching something outside of them that he couldn't see though he tried. When enough time had passed that he was certain she hadn't said his name, he turned back to gazing out at nothing, his posture straightening as he felt rather self-conscious looking like he was in a position to fall asleep in his chair before that.

He had just begun thinking about everything again when once more, he heard his name.

"Harry," It whispered.

This time, he was absolutely convinced he heard her. Staring at her intently, Luna did not look like she had moved an inch or even taken a breath. In fact, was she even _breathing? _Harry furred his eyebrows together.

"Yes?" He said, louder this time to make sure she had heard him. But once again, he was met with nothing but awkward silence. This time, he did not suppress a sigh, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair.

_Bloody hell, _he thought. Either she was messing with him, or he was going crazy. At this point, he wasn't sure which it was.

Then, again, he heard his name.

"Harry," a dreamy voice sang.

Unable to control himself this time, he whipped his entire body around in the chair, looking at her with slight irritation.

"_Luna,_" he said sternly, "are you saying my name? Why won't you answer me?"

When, for the third time, she did not answer, he came up with an idea. Crossing his arms, he gave her a smile.

"Well then," he said smugly, "I guess I'm just going to have to stare at you until I _see _you talk."

And for the next few minutes, stare he did. In fact, he didn't blink. He sat there, spectating her, waiting for her to move or flinch. But when nothing came, he began to feel uneasy. Relaxing his arms, he frowned. What was wrong with her? Reaching out with his hand, he grabbed her shoulder lightly.

"Luna -" He began, but was interrupted; for when he touched her, her face suddenly turned to meet his own and she gasped loudly.

"Harry!" She cried unexpectedly, causing him to jolt back in his chair, tipping it over. Panicking, Harry waved his arms frantically to try and grab onto something. Thankfully, he felt a warm hand clasped onto his, pulling him and his chair back up and straight.

"Merlin's beard," said Harry breathlessly, his heart rate going through the roof. "What were you trying to do to me?" But Luna merely stared at him with a blank expression, as if she hadn't just scared the life out of him.

"Well, I was trying to inform you of the riddle I had just figured out, but then you had quite a tumble. Aren't Quidditch players suppose to have good balance?" She asked, tilting her head to the side and surveying him. Her question sounded less like an insult and more of genuine confusion, though Harry couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed and annoyed.

"I'm not exactly used to people shouting my name in my face all of the sudden while playing Quidditch, either..." He said, regretting the iciness in his tone immediately.

Luna appeared ignorant of it, however, and merely gave him a small lopsided smile.

"I don't suppose Quidditch players hold peoples hands, do they?" She commented dreamily. Perplexed, it took Harry a moment to realize her hand was still in his, holding it subconsciously. Gaping, he quickly let go of her hand, snapping back his own as if he had been shocked; something else he wished he hadn't done quickly after he had done it. Feeling an uncomfortable lump in his throat and warmth in his cheeks, he hesitated to look her in the eye. "Sorry," he mumbled. She simply shrugged her shoulder.

"Hands are a strange thing, aren't they? I didn't even think of catching you and yet I was already trying to do it. I wonder why that is?" Luna mused to no one in particular, not even casting a glance at Harry but rather looking off behind him.

Harry didn't know how to respond to that and took to fidgeting his hands together instead, the strange sensation of her skin on his making him nervous. What if Ginny had seen? Instinctively on that thought he looked out into the sea of people but did not see her, though he was certain she was off somewhere; smiling, laughing, dancing and catching up with so-and-so. He had hoped to see her fire red hair protruding through the mass, but was surprised at how relieved he felt when he did not. Expression softening, he could feel himself frown, but did not know why.

"I wonder," hummed Luna, "if it is possible to want someone, and to not want them, at the same time?"

Harry felt unnerved by this statement, mostly because it validated the very core of his emotions since the war had ended. Staring at Luna out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she played with what looked like a necklace made of assorted pebbles and rocks around her neck. How was it that she knew exactly what to say and when to say it _all the time_? _She is in Ravenclaw, _his voice told him, but he knew there was more to her than just a simple school occupation. He had learned all too well in this war that what house you're in doesn't make you who you are, only your choices could do that. Sadness came over him again when he remembered Dumbledore telling him some of those very words when he was younger. Perhaps he hadn't fully understood then, but he did now. How many things could have been avoided, he wondered, if he had taken those words more to heart?

Luna narrowed her wide eyes at him and smiled again, and for the first time that night Harry felt himself send her a genuine one back. She was somewhat of a mystery, Luna. Strange, perhaps, but definitely a mystery. And more importantly, a _friend._ Someone who not only fought by his side from the very beginning without once casting doubt, but someone who knew, _really _knew, the loss of another. Sitting here now with her, he remembered each time she was able to discern his feelings when he could not voice them himself. Certainly now was no different. He had a sudden rush of affection for Luna, remembering the words on the wall in her room that read: "Friends". She had always been there for him. Yet he never once really thanked her, or acknowledged her loyalty as something to be treasured.

_Maybe it's time you do, _said a very Hermione-esque voice in his head. Gathering up a bit of courage, Harry leaned in towards her unconsciously.

"Luna..." Harry started seriously, his eyes locked onto hers. She merely held his gaze, still grinning. "I know I haven't spoken to you much lately, but I just wanted you to know that I really appreci-"

"Oh!" Luna exhaled loudly, abruptly standing up from her chair, leaving Harry with a bewildered look on his face.

"Um - ?" He was about to ask her what was wrong, but his words were cut short as she rounded on him (nearly whipping his face with her long hair), an excitement blazing in her protuberant eyes that made her look quite mad. At first, Harry thought she was going to flounce away, or perhaps burst into a recited speech about something that had just come to mind. Instead, he watched in confusion as she cleared her throat and put one arm in front of her chest and the other in back of her, bending her knees and back, dropping her head full of blond tangles as she bowed deeply towards him. She did not come fully back up, but threw her hair back and out of her face (though it did not work very well) and outstretched the palm of her hand to him, long fingers curling out gracefully.

"May I have this dance?" She asked, a hint of playfulness in her otherwise illusive tones. Harry's jaw dropped, gaping, his eyes looking around frantically. Was anyone else seeing this? What was he suppose to do? He didn't even know how to dance!

"Luna - I don't uh..." His mind quickened as he thought of something less lame to say then, _I can't dance. _"I don't really... I mean I would but... But there's... there's just a... there's a lot of..." His words trailed off nervously as she stared at him, expectant for an answer.

_Think of something!_he mind roared.

"There's a lot of... a lot of... uhh -... Wrackspurts!"

_Oh, Merlin... _what did he just say?

Luna blinked curiously.

"Y-yeah," Harry continued on stupidly. "Wrackspurts. You know, a lot of them, all around my head... makes me feel uh, dizzy," he made motions with his hands around his head, as if that was going to convey anything to her. At first, Luna did not say anything to him. Then, to his surprise, she suddenly burst into extremely loud laughter that Harry did not think was possible.

Truly, she began laughing so hard that he was certain real tears were forming in her eyes.

"Oh, oh my goodness," breathed Luna through her mirth, "wrackspurts, Harry! Really! You're too funny, you really are."

Harry blushed now, as people around him were beginning to stare at Luna, who had both arms clutching her stomach as her amusement settled into gentle giggles, her normally pale face flushed pink.

"Harry," she tittered, "you can't _see _wrackspurts! Well, not unless you have glasses to see them, which, you do not, unless of course they are invisible..." A large grin stayed on her face as she touched her nose with the tip of her finger. "You are very funny, Harry Potter."

He certainly didn't _feel _funny, sitting there dumbfounded. He couldn't even think of what to say now, still at a loss of what exactly was so funny. Yet, regardless of his discomfort, he found himself smiling vaguely at her. He didn't know Luna was capable of laughing that hard, much less about something he said.

"Yeah... I guess," he said uncertainly.

Shaking her blond mane back and forth, Luna gazed at Harry with a twinkle in her eye. The same one he so often saw in Dumbledore's.

"It's okay," she whispered just so he could hear, "I know you don't want to dance. It was worth a try though, right?" Harry immediately felt guilty for saying no, the way she stared right through him made his stomach twist in knots. Staring upwards, Luna gave a content sigh. "The weather is just right for a walk, don't you think?" Before he could think of a response, Luna bent down and took Harry's hands in her own, squeezing them lightly. For a brief moment, they once again locked eyes. Her lucid blue ones straight into his green ones. Harry felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck, holding his breath as electricity sparked through their touch. If he hadn't known any better, he could have sworn he saw something sad in her expression.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said softly, and without another word, she floated away from him, disappearing into the many faces that were passing through.

He hadn't realized it, but he had been holding his breath the entire time, even minutes after she had left. Inhaling deeply, he could've sworn a new pain had found home in heart, one that had not been there before. Yet, there was something else that had come with it - a peace, perhaps, that he did not quite understand.

Looking down at his hands which had stayed in the exact position as they had been when she squeezed them, he thought back to what she said.

_"I wonder," hummed Luna, "if it is possible to want someone, and to not want them, at the same time?"_

And just before he could contemplate the answer to that question, it came to him quite easily as he stuffed his hands into his pants pocket and watched as two familiar red heads and one very bushy haired girl made way through the crowds towards him.

_Yes, _he thought, as he straightened his posture, her laughter still ringing in his ears.

_It is._

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_**A/N: **_Hope it was good! I might add another chapter to this, not sure. Be on the look out regardless if you enjoyed this one. **As always, reviews or favorites are GREATLY appreciated! **Nothing helps a writer stay motivated like knowing someone likes what she wrote._  
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